The Right Words

Writer slapping forehead (c) Leonid Pasternak

I want to write to you,

But the right words won’t come to me.

It’s a restlessness inside,

A burning without smoke,

A flood uphill,

A strife against the void,

This urge to write to you.

But words, the right words, won’t come to me.

*

I must write to you, I feel I must,

To say hello, to say goodbye,

To make amends for past mistakes,

To take a guess at the uncertain future,

To make you stop and pause your life,

To make you listen,

To share with you a moment of awareness,

To make us accomplices

Between the sheets of printed paper.

But words, the right words, won’t come to me.

*

I want to write to you,

I really do,

But the storm rages on,

The curtains rustle in the wind,

The candle flickers out and dies,

Darkness swallows me,

And words, the right words, still won’t come to me.

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15 thoughts on “The Right Words

  1. This article might have been addressed to me personally. Although I don’t blush very easily, there was a fire in those words which made me turn crimson red …and I’m reminded of that boy, whose words I’m still waiting for.

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